Dystopia
by whisper.zed
Summary: She was always slightly off. . . MadaraxOC. HidanxOC. T 'cause Hidan's one of the characters. Hooray for cussing!
1. one

_Disclaimer: I own only the OC's, plot, and the stuff in my house. Naruto isn't in my house._

.one.

Haruka had always been a peculiar child.

She looked, more or less, like any other little girl if not a bit thin. She acted, more or less, like any other little girl if not a bit quiet. She enjoyed things that many little girls did, for the most part, if not a bit too much.

Yes, that was it! Really, the thing that set Haruka from the rest of the little girls was the unusual passion she put into her hobbies, flower picking first and foremost.

Haruka bent down, grey eyes set on a particular bloom trembling in the wind. She plucked the small flower, so tiny compared to all the rest, from its home nestled in the grass. She examined the particular flower, running her tiny fingers over the powdery pink petals. So soft...

She had resigned herself, even at such a young age, to only being able to experience the "good" feelings in life. Haruka was "blessed" with what the doctors called Congenital Insensitivity to Pain, or something like that. Apparently, pain was this terrible feeling one gets when their body is damaged. Obviously however, Haruka had never personally experienced it in her short five years of life even with two of them being spent training with Father to become a ninja.

Haruka sighed and once again ran her fingers over the silky bloom. Haruka watched with hollow grey eyes as the petals of the tiny, insignificant flower were tossed about with the weak wind.

She let another small sigh escape, seeing a slow blush creep over the sky. _Father will be mad if I'm late for training,_ Haruka thought as she began the trek back to her clan's compound.

In all honesty, Haruka was fascinated with fighting; the inner tranquility one must have while seeing and doing everything was impossible for Haruka to wrap her mind around. However, continuing with the truth, she was more captivated by watching her opponents be crippled by a sensation she had and never would feel.

Haruka was envious of their pain, however alien that seems to us. Perhaps she was just too curious, as Mother always said.

.:.W.:.

Haruka slumped over in exhaustion. Father wasn't going easy on her tonight.

Father looked down on his child with cold, critical grey eyes, the same pair he passed onto his daughter. "Again, Haruka," he spoke in a deep, commanding voice.

"Y-yes, Father," Haruka pushed herself off the ground. Father had decided it was time to teach Haruka their clan's techniques.

Of _course_ this was a spontaneous decision!

Haruka formed the jumble of hand seals she had just learned as Father loomed over her. Once the string of seals was complete, a wind was breathed from Haruka. It was more violent than a small summer breeze but nowhere near the strength of a hurricane.

At least not yet.

Father could make his wind stronger than a hurricane. He could even make creatures dance about in his wind, the clan's secret technique.

After a time of examining, Father nodded stiffly, "Better, but you're not going to be able to perform our techniques anytime soon."

Haruka frowned at the putdown. Again and again she tried to please Father by doing good -or well as she had been told to say- in her studies of ninja arts. If only he would be slightly more agreeable.

Or just less talented.

He had such a mastery of wind that he could control all the elements (but lightning, naturally)* with wind alone. At her age, Haruka could only dream to be so skilled.

Eventually, Haruka did come to understand her clan's ability, but many trees were sheered in the process of her grasping it over the years.

.:.W.:.

"Welcome to the first day if class, everyone!" A kind looking woman stood in front of a large desk- and child-filled room. "My name is Kinko but you may call me Kinko-sensei or K-dog."

The class burst into laughter at the teacher's joke. Haruka didn't find it horrendously humorous.

"Alrighty then, class, I'm going to call roll. When I call your name, raise your hand and say 'here'."

"Akasora Aiko?"

"Here."

"Bara Chou?"

"Here!~"

The list went on from there. For some reason, Haruka's parents decided that the local school would help her hone her abilities as a kunoichi/warrior/whatever the appropriate term for that time would be. She was gifted, they would tell her.

Haruka began flipping through the book situated on her desk. There were vibrant portraits of historical figures and diagrams of the human body and food webs and lots of other textbook-esque stuff, all colored to capture her attention. None of them interested her, however.

Was it so odd she liked uncommon things?

To answer that rhetorical question, yes, yes it was.

Many of the things, even in the back of the book, Father had already gone over with her. Would this school hone her abilities or impede them?

"Yuuben Haruka?"

". . .Here," Haruka said. Hopefully not for long. . .

.:.W.:.

Haruka got her wishes granted.

In the year she spent at the school it turned out that it was even worse than she first suspected. The girls Kinko-sensei encouraged her to play with were only interested in the boys who seemed to only be interested in dirt. Haruka found that dirt was more appealing than admiring someone who could give you the deadly "cooties" if you got too close.

Haruka had no issue with leaving the school -or the country for that matter- to go to this hip place called the Fire Country barely a year after she enrolled, already a third of the way through the whole curriculum. There were better opportunities there than in the lowly Rice Patty Country. Father said that they could perhaps interact with other shinobi clans rather than just the small Yuuben clan.

How wrong was he!

Haruka's first impression of the Fire Country was rather nice. There were plenty of flowers to pick even when the weather was bitter. Mother called a particularly pretty bunch of pale blooms "snowbells."

The rest of Haruka's early memories in the Fire Country were still vividly engrained in her mind, even almost 100 years later: the fear from clans clashing in her backyard she could still taste in her mouth, the pained cries of dying men still echoed in her sleep, and the fading pulse of said men as she watched them die in her favorite flower patch still haunted her now and again.

They were only a bit morbid.

Once they were settled, Haruka was enrolled in another local school for the cluster of several clans. It was just as bad as the old country, if not worse, for there were big clans, the Uchiha, the Hyuuga, and the Senju, that seemed to hold power over the less prominent ones in the form of schoolyard bullies. There also was a boy named Madara, the prodigious class clown and heartthrob.

Haruka sighed a bit, fiddling with the flower in her hand. Madara, other to-be clan heads, and she were working at the same "extraordinary" pace (it became somewhat ordinary once half the class was ahead), though they were better in all honesty, for Haruka had already completed a year's worth of studies whereas they had just begun theirs.

Still, no one but the occasional teacher even so much as acknowledged Haruka's existence -forget talent. Maybe she just wasn't pretty enough?

This would often trouble Haruka, and she would consequently spent hours poring over her reflection, trying to find her flaws, then as she grew older her features. Haruka would always see the same monotonous grey eyes -devoid of unnecessary emotion as Father had taught her-, tightly curled pure black hair -she often styled it with a flower pinning back her bangs-, and pale skin -soft from the constant application of floral-scented lotion.

That was how her one-sided rivalry with Uchiha Madara began, just a bit of troubled vanity.

Eventually, the two became slightly more than one of the competitors for the top seat in the class. A friendship sprouted between the two, well, as much as one could between two such as Madara and Haruka (i.e. mean people). Her life was not at all aided by this: Madara had loyal fangirls to say the least.

But Haruka didn't care. She was out on the battlefield before most of the fangirls could leave the house without their mothers. Yes she, along with the aforementioned half of the class, was out of the academy at age seven, just a year after most had enrolled. Haruka fretted about that, of course. She felt unworthy to begin her work as a ninja with so many other great ones becoming one at the same time.

Well, she wasn't a ninja yet, seeing as there were no hidden villages at this point, but that was approximately what it was.

Sort of.

.:.W.:.

Haruka looked back at her two best friends trailing behind her: Nara Shikako and Haruno Chika. The trio was just a few of the early graduates. Haruka would look back on these years as the golden age of the ninja, even if they didn't truly exist yet. You see, everyone was much more encouraged to be a spectacular fighter/ninja/you get the idea, for if they weren't, they'd just end up as another tick on the tally of casualties.

It could be called natural selection.

"Hurry up!" called Haruka, black curls bouncing behind her.

Chika looked up at her with nervous eyes, "Don't worry, w-we're almost there, Haruka-chan, and -uh, but- w-we're-"

"Scared?" laughed Haruka, though her eyes stayed dull. "C'mon, Chikie-chan, we can handle a bunch of thugs if we work together."

"Easy for you to say," whispered Chika as pale purple hair tickled her baby blue eyes.

Shikako rolled her eyes, "It's fine to be nervous, but they hired us knowing how old we are. Obviously we can do this."

"Yeah," Chika looked up, eyes smoldering with newfound strength.

Haruka smirked, _All she needs is a bit of encouragement._

Haruka said, "Their last camp site should only be about ten minutes away."

Chika nodded, and Shikako said, "Okay, let's go!"

"Let's not make this any longer than it needs to be," Haruka muttered as they sprung into the barren treetops. "I can barely feel my nose."

By any modern-day standards, sending a bunch of seven year olds to take care of a group of about a dozen thugs was absolutely appalling. The fact that about half of them were wanted for rape didn't at all help the modern view of the mission, either.

These times were different, obviously. To begin with, no one gave a damn, not even in the homeland of the Will of Fire, whether or not anyone died. As long as there were children to continue the lineage and a head of the house, everyone was fine.

The second but more prominent reason was that everyone -men, women, and even children- were seen as equals on the battlefield. Killing a little girl was no different than killing her father. Perhaps pops would put up a better fight, but it wasn't abominable to slay children.

By these old standards, anyone was a suitable choice for any mission, seduction aside. It really wasn't so off for a child to be seen frolicking about a forest searching for a certain someone to kill.

Haruka always used her small build to her advantage, especially in dangerous situations.

This was a perfect example of a dangerous situation:

About a dozen men sat around a flickering fire, all of them willing and able to kill and/or rape her. She was wedged between two large branches with no leaves to cloak her from view. She simply relied on Shikako's shadows for coverage.

Chika whispered from beside her, "How should we do this?"

"A trap for sure so we can take care of them quick." Haruka paused, distaste at her sentence evident in her eyes. She added, "-ly. . . Any ideas, Shika-chan?"

"I can trap them, but I don't have enough chakra to fully possess them. Could you use a genjutsu, Chika?" Shikako whispered.

Chika nodded. Haruka continued the whispered plan, "Once you two have trapped them, I'll make wind to blow away the tents to see if we missed anyone, then I'll go in and deal with them."

"I'll get started on the shadows."

"I'll get started on the genjutsu."

Shikako formed a seal with her dark hands, making the shadows about her twitch to life. The tendril of her shadow crept down the tree, stretching so much the contrast was barely visible.

Shikako's frowned a bit as the shadow reached its limits. "Uh, could you?"

Haruka nodded, bringing her thumbnail to her lip, a habit from Father, to send her chakra to the air, forcing several leaves from the ground. A couple formed a clump, casting a shadow just behind the men.

Shikako smiled her thanks then continued to conduct the shadow. The dark thread finally trapped the fluttering shadow of the fire. She snared the shadows, making them jerk slightly from the new authority, but had them flitting naturally without batting an eyelash.

A smirk brushed over Shikako's lips as thin threads snuck from the shadow of the fire. The morph was so gradual that none of the thugs saw the shadows before each was already caught.

The shadows swiftly swooped into the long shadow of each thug who jerked slightly at the new authority.

Thugs were no better than the shadows everyone treads on. . .

"Success!" breathed Shikako. "Go, Chika, I can't hold them forever."

Haruka snorted, "Are they fat or something?"

Shikako took a fleeting glance at the group. They reminded Haruka of laundry lines the way their clothing hung from them. "Very."

Chika pranced over to the bunch of men, genjutsu at the ready. The lavender haired girl easily slipped them into an unpleasant illusion. "Do your work, Ru-Ru!"

"Alright." Haruka brought her thumb to her lips again, conjuring a bitter winter wind from the. . . north? Meh, her sense of direction wasn't her strongpoint.

The camp was blown away in under a minute, revealing no kidnapped children, stolen treasure, other thugs, drugs, food, clothing, shelter. . . Oh, those were the shelters. . . "Alright, let's do this! Chika, can you help me put down some explosive tags?"

"Sorry, I don't have any on me."

"Good thing I brought extra!" Haruka drew a few from her bag, and placed a couple around the camp.

"W-wait!" Chika called as Haruka began retreating.

"Huh?"

"You-you're going to blow them up?"

"Well, we're supposed to 'take care of them,' and doesn't that mean to kill them?"

"Well. . ."

Shikako stepped in, "What she's trying to say is that it's that it's a bit much to blow them up."

"We need to send the other thugs a message," Haruka smiled. "Our country has enough problems without thugs like these, doesn't it?"

"Whatever," Shikako rolled her eyes. She was a dominating person but was definitely smart enough to figure out that Haruka would do things her way, supported or not.

"Let's get out of here, then," Haruka said.

"Yeah," Chika sighed.

.:.W.:.

Haruka killed a human being for the first time that day. Everyone shunned the concept. She couldn't explain it, but it gave her a warm fuzzy feeling inside that should be used with puppies and babies as opposed to committing homicide. It was her fatal curiosity that let her to commit the atrocious act, truly.

That was Haruka, though. It wasn't the beginning of her sadistic nature, but it was definitely a clear checkpoint. The Haruka that all who grew to like her enjoyed started at that moment, the frame human blood splattered on her hand the first time, figuratively speaking.

No one's the same after they kill.

Or die.

Or fast.

Each of those things happened to Haruka, and each changed her in some way or another physically and/or mentally.

* * *

><p><em>AN: I was simply in a poetic and romantic mood, and this came to be. I hoped you liked it! I apologize for the lack of humor, but even though this is a humor story, it isn't entirely focused around that. This story is more subtle, and has darker and somewhat more mature themes. You'll see what I mean as this continues. This chapter and the next are pretty much the introduction chapters, and the romance begins in chapter three. I know this because I've already written up to chapter three. I would appreciate reviews, and especially constructive criticism but please no flames. This is the first fanfiction I've written that has imagery and all that jazz in it. _

_Two things:_

_*One: They're unable to use lightning because it's just a chemical reaction, thus intangible. This will come into play later on._

_*Two: Is anyone else irritated by people not indenting in fanfics? I am sometimes, but I was just wondering if anyone else was or if anyone actually noticed._

_Thanks for reading!_

_-Uncle W.Z_


	2. two

_Disclaimer: I like Naruto enough to write fanficions and make several OCs, but I don't own it enough to profit from this. I wish I owned a beluga whale._

_Warning: There's some girlxgirl, so use the basic rule: don't like, don't read. Don't use this rule for textbooks, though._

.two.

The first person Haruka ever had a crush on was another woman. Nara Shikako to be precise. Yes, the Nara Shikako who would grow to lead the Nara Clan as they grew set up shop in Konoha. Yes, the Nara Shikako who trained Tsunade. Yes, the Nara Shikako who married a daimyo and went down in the textbooks. In case it wasn't clear, it was _that_ Nara Shikako.

Haruka would think about holding hands and often more with Shikako in the way she supposed girls would think about a boy they liked. But Haruka didn't like a boy.

Well, being bisexual in an already oppressive society sure was fun.

Or depressing.

Especially if you're Yuuben Haruka.

Haruka, though, was rather prone to bottle up any feeling that might have happened to bubble up. She was naturally quite calm, but the coldness Father enforced aided in that.

As well, she had a streak of quiet depression, but she wouldn't admit it to anyone, hence it being a quiet depression, but sometimes not even to herself. It was there nonetheless. Haruka had her security blankets to turn to, though: training and reading and flower picking, of course.

She could spend hours reading away in the library, oblivious to her eyestrain. She could spend hours training, punching a log until she felt blood trailing down her arms, creating wind until she could feel the heat of her burnt hands.

Haruka simply assumed pain was a pleasure and that she had been cursed in being barred from it. This made her mad. So mad often that her wind became violent during training when her thoughts happened to stumble upon the conjecture.

Throughout her early teens Haruka would read books with rather morbid topics like disease, mutation, mythology-

Wait! How is mythology morbid you ask? Well, if you knew the types she read on, you might understand better.

There was a particular one, an offshoot focused on the death god of an ancient religion, called Jashinism that quite caught her fancy. And with that, she finally found what she was looking for. Ravenously, she read all material, and there was more than she expected from a cult, she could find on Jashinism and its roots.

Haruka finally found another one of the rare followers. He called himself Mujou. Mujou gave her the holy book of the faith. Haruka hadn't seen him since.

Haruka was about fifteen when she got the book. It was simply called _The Scripture_. Yes, the was capitalized. They're very specific about that.

Grammar rules aside, Haruka threw her heart and soul into that religion. Until she discovered Jashinism, she always thought that the religious were just folks who felt sorry for themselves, but did she disprove herself. Haruka discovered how soothing faith could really be.

.:.W.:.

As soon as she could, Haruka had started quiet sacrifices to her god. Mainly, they were dying men on the battlefield lest became suspicious, but she gradually became bolder, wiping out entire villages on occasion.

The sacrifices did please her, give her a high of sorts, but her quiet depression became worse and worse to the point that even the cold Madara could sense that something was wrong. With that, she finally realized she had a problem. Just because they were friends didn't mean that he could go around being all perceptive and shit!

It was mid-winter, just days before her twenty first birthday, when it happened.

Haruka folded her legs under herself in the brittle brown grass. She swept her gaze around, looking for any imperfections. Good, there wasn't a petal out of place.

She smiled an eager smile while pulling out a simple dagger from the folds of her clothing. It was cold like she would be in a matter of minutes.

Haruka settled the dagger's tip against her chest, right over her heart.

Haruka smiled, this time bitterly. _I won't have to stay in my oh-so-'perfect' world anymore._

"Jashin-sama," she spoke clearly. A cold wind picked up, carrying away some of the petals around her. "this," She dug the tip into her chest, closer and closer to her heart. "is for you!"

Haruka, with a sudden jolt of passion, dug the cold, cold dagger the rest of the way into her chest until it pierced her quickly beating heart.

_Suicide, he best way to die. . ._

.:.W.:.

The world was white, all white.

Haruka slowly stood. _Heaven?_

She took a timid step forward, listening to the echo of the tiny step. _No, ninjas go to Hell._

"Well, this is new." She shook her head. "Solitary confinement?" She snorted, "Been through worse."

Haruka felt an odd pull from the. . . north? west? Her sense of direction hadn't improved at all. Well, whatever way it was, it was to her left.

Naturally, she went that way.

Perhaps she walked for a minute. Perhaps five. Perhaps it was for half of eternity. She couldn't quite tell, but eventually, she simply stopped, unwilling to carry on.

"This is where I'm stuck for eternity? What a bore." Haruka vaguely started humming.

Who knows how long she hummed, but it was defin-

"Hello!"

"Holy mother of- What the hell!" Haruka jumped a mile at the simple greeting.

"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Chill. Chill. 'S'all good, lady."

"Wha- wh-where the hell are you?"

"Right here!" Haruka felt a tug on her pant leg so looked down to see a. . . squirrel? That didn't seem right. It continued, "Long time no see, Haruka!" It gave her a genuine, heartwarming smile.

Haruka gave the creature a slightly confused look. "Um, sorry, but I don't quite remember you." Hey, being a ninja/warrior/whatever the hell they're called and a Jashinist doesn't mean she had no manners. In fact, Haruka shunned those mannerless fools.

"Oh, don't be sorry, don't be sorry! It's been a long time, 'bout ten years, methinks." The squirrel introduced itself, "Name's Kazuki. And, uh, I was your first sacrifice. You were so cute back then! You were what? ten? eleven?"

"Oh! Kazuki!" Haruka slightly remembered the squirrel, the summer day, the knife, the curiosity. "So I assume this is the afterlife."

"Eh, not quite," Kazuki said. "This is the home of sacrifices to Jashin-sama. I mean, of course you could go over to heaven if you wanted, but this is a nice place, really. C'mon, I'll show you around, maybe introduce you to the lord himself."

"Alright. Lead the way!"

The two set off some direction or another until they eventually crossed a lump in the landscape (or lack thereof). "Alright, Ru-Ru, this is the first and final stop on our tour. This place is a bit barren if you didn't notice."

"Hmm, a bit, a bit." Haruka scrutinized the lump. "Er, what is that exactly?"

"Why, it's none other than Jashin-sama's residence!"

"Ah, may I go in?"

"You must," Kazuki said. "Really, you have to go in. I was sent to fetch you."

"Okay." Kazuki led Haruka to the god's house. It was rather small, really, but spectacular nonetheless. The door swung open for them, revealing a delightfully decorated parlor.

The two stepped in and stood for a while. "Um?" Haruka looked at the squirell.

"Just wait."

Haruka nodded, and, as if on cue, a deep, commanding voice, much like Father's, beckoned them. "Enter."

"Go ahead, Ru-Ru, I'll wait for you," Kazuki said.

"Thank you." Haruka smiled at the squirrel before stepping through the door that opened for her.

The door swung shut as the voice said, "Hello, Haruka. So glad you could join me."

"Jashin-sama?" Haruka said. Upon seeing the god perched on a throne, she dipped into a floor sweeping bow.

"Of course! I'm pleased you could identify me so easily."

"Um," Haruka was at a loss for words. He was real! He was here! Jashin-sama! They were wrong! All wrong! He existed! He really existed!

"Now, child, I want to make this quick."

"Okay, please go on"

"Well, how should I put this? To begin, you are a model follower, and I wish to reward you. You persevered through tough times and stood up for your beliefs," Jashin paused. "Hmm, that sounded somewhat cliché, but I _do_ wish to reward your service and devotion."

Haruka smiled. "It was all a pleasure, Lord."

"Good," Jashin returned the smile from his simple yet beautiful throne. "I wish to have you as a follower forever, and your self-sacrifice leads me to believe you will continue as a model follower if I send you back."

"I will, Lord, I always will."

"Good." Jashin stood up, conjuring a violet orb in his palm. "I wish to grant you the divine power of immortality and eternal youth, so you can continue to carry out my wills." He extended His hand so the orb was right in front of Haruka. "Sounds like a fine trade, don't you think? Forever spent on Earth young and deathless in exchange of service you already carry out."

"Very good, Lord." Haruka forced a smile. _Damn it all!_

Jashin let Haruka take the humming orb. "The divine powers are yours no."

"Th-thank you," Haruka sputtered, barely covering up her sadness. _Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!_

"Now, go back to Earth and continue your life!"

"I will, Lord. Thank you, again. A thousand thanks, Lord." _Not really. . ._

"My pleasure, child, my pleasure."

.:.W.:.

Haruka jerked awake, breath ragged and rapid. The sky was a glittering navy. What sort of demented dream was _that_?

Haruka felt a cold point in her chest. Th-the dagger!

She screamed, half in horror, half in anger, and the tiniest part in bitter defeat. That wasn't a dream! That wasn't a dream! I died and met Him and He took away my death! I'll never die! I'll-I'll never die. . .

Haruka tugged the dagger from her chest. It was as cold as she was _suppose_ to be.

It took her a while to compose herself. Then, of course, Izuna, her sort of friend or acquaintance or whatever, had to frolic into the picture.

He approached, "Haruka-san? What was that? I heard someone scream," The young man stopped dead in his tracks, seeing the blood all over his friend or acquaintance or whatever and a dagger trembling in her hands. "Ha-Haruka-san? Wha-"

"I'm okay," she said. With a bitter smile she added, "I'll always be okay." _The flower petals blew away. . ._ "Trust me." _Immortality in exchange of suicide. . ._

Izuna left without another word.

_. . .How ironic. . ._

.:.W.:.

_A/N: Well, that was that. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it! Sorry, it was sort of angst-filled (I almost cried while writing this) and rushed and somewhat lacking humor (just hold your horses for that one), but I want to get to the plot and get Hidan's ass in here. He's coming in chapter four. I think I'm going to pair Hidan in some sort of love triangle with Haruka and another OC, but I don't know. There are for sure going to be two more OCs. I really like OCs. Again, thanks for reading, and please leave me a review. Constructive criticism is always welcomed, but I'd rather not deal with flames. _

_-Uncle W.Z _


	3. three

_Disclaimer: I could make a list of all the stuff I own, but I'm too lazy to. I can tell you that Naruto wouldn't be on that list. Haruka would, however._

.three.

Everyone has something that they're good at, be it fighting, writing, or being able to brighten someone's day. It seems cliché, but everyone _is_ good at something. Occasionally, a king -or queen as the case may be- comes around in a field.

Haruka was one if these rare queens.

Fighting as a whole she was pretty good at, but she reigned, in fact, over three kingdoms: wind jutsu, sense of fashion, and writing.

Her excellence with wind jutsu was a given since she had been practicing since she was five, but Father said that she could surpass _him_ in the mastery of the element. Beating Father? In _wind jutsu?_ It seemed impossible, but he had said it himself, and the facts spoke for themselves: while Father was thirty years of age when he finally grasped the clan's technique, Haruka was twenty one. It was after she had been granted immortality that she threw herself into training with a rejuvenated spirit, depression ebbing away and will to live on receiving her.

Other than ninjutsu, Haruka would admit that her only other strengths in combat were the shrewd head she had on her shoulders and her speed which she often enhanced even more with none other than wind jutsu. Haruka wasn't particularly talented in taijutsu, but she was one of the about third of the population who _could_ cast genjutsu. That didn't mean that she did very often, however. Worst of all, though, was that every sort of projectile hated her with a passion. In other words, she had shitty aim.

Other than her ninjutsu, Haruka was an impressive artist. Her art, though, was found in clothing and the written word.

From a young age, Haruka had been trained to dress nicely and in style by Mother. There wasn't much more to it: she could pick a fucking stunning outfit without breaking a sweat. Other than it being genetic, Haruka believed her sense of style was brought about by her appearance. She wasn't gorgeous, really. At least, in her eyes she wasn't.

If you haven't noticed, Haruka's quite the worry-wart.

Haruka's third mastered skill was that of the written word. Part of it, of course, was natural, but it also came from her bookwormish tendencies. She had opinions, and she could and damn well would support them, and easily sway some incredibly stubborn people.

This didn't necessarily mean that she was a good public speaker. Sure, she was fine at it, but she preferred writing the speech than saying it.

Perhaps this is how she became one of Hashirama's advisors, her ability to take an opinion and support it to the ends of the earth. Maybe it was just because she knew the right people to befriend. Or maybe it was simply to enhance Hashirama's already amazing charisma.

.:.W.:.

"Haruka?" Hashirama walked into the room.

"Hmm?" Haruka cracked an eye open lazily. It took all the clans a good twenty years since she moved to the Fire Country to get their act together and found Konoha.

"There's a meeting, hurry up," he said before briskly leaving the room.

"Damn, I was just about to take a nap," she huffed while getting over to the meeting room.

Haruka was now twenty-six, but didn't look a day over twenty-one. We all know why that is.

Her impeccable fashion sense was in action now. She sported a silk moonlight white button-down shirt with a hip-hugging dark pencil skirt. Over the simple garments she wore a long emerald green trench coat with plenty of buttons and pockets and insulation. The flowers that adorned her curls today were several small, white lilies of the valley.

Haruka walked to the meeting room, black boots clicking on the floor. She preferred boots over sandals as a general principle. Sandals were (and would always be) the trend of the time.

Stepping into the meeting room, she saw that everyone was there, all the clan heads. They were all making quiet conversation while waiting for the seemingly important meeting to begin. Haruka sat beside Tobirama, her partner in advising.

"Hey," said Haruka.

"Hello," Tobirama replied.

"Is this meeting important?"

"They all are."

Haruka rolled her grey eyes, "They _all_ are? My ass."

"Sometimes I wonder how you ever became an advisor."

"Let's just say I know a guy."

"Me, too. He just happens to be my brother."

"You two have quite the relationship, don't you?"

"No, no," Tobirama smirked. "I just wonder about you sometimes, Haruka."

Haruka smirked in reply. The two were close friends no matter how much they yelled at each other in advisory sessions. Opposites attract, they say.

Haruka inspected the meeting agenda. Plain old meeting. Nothing new. Nothing special. Just a meeting.

To this day, Haruka wants to destroy any city plan she ever sees. Ever.

.:.W.:.

Madara and Haruka had always been close. They grew up together. They shared the same view of fighting: might over love. They were just close in general.

Haruka knew she wasn't that popular among men. She hadn't touched one in more than a platonic or familial way until she was in her twenties.

That first man was, of course, Madara.

A certain something grew between them. For the sake of metaphors, let's call it a tree.

Why a tree you ask?

Well, their relationship was off and on, the status changed like the leaves on a tree.

Perfect metaphor, see?

However important that is to the story, it being a romance and all, something even more important was happening in Haruka's life: she was bored.

Yes, bored.

She was fucking bored.

Of her rut.

Of advising.

Of Konoha.

Of the Fire Country as a whole.

The little missions here and there weren't enough to quench her thirst of adventure. She wanted out, and she wanted out **now**.

But Haruka was more than bored, she was. . . unhappy. Konoha's culture was inclined to shun her opinion on things and -even worse- her religion. The inhabitants of the Fire Country became kinder once they were settled down, sadly. She already went through enough shit in her life and was unenthused by the bitchy villagers.

The night was clear. It was clean. It was waiting for her to make her move.

Haruka was ready to leave her village. They couldn't catch her, the ANBU was still new. They couldn't hurt her, she didn't feel pain. They couldn't kill her, she was ironically blessed with immortality.

Without further ado, Haruka took her leave. From now on, she would be known as the first rouge in the brief history of the modern shinobi world. Only the first. Shame.

But fame was good.

A smirk played upon her features. "Farewell, Konohagakure. I can't say that I'll miss you." And she was off. Haruka's short saga in the Fire Country was finished. It took her four years to build up the courage to leave, but she did at age thirty.

Her life had just begun.

.:.W.:.

What compelled Haruka to save her old lover was beyond her, but there she was in front of Madara's would be tomb just a few months after her leave.

Haruka tapped softly on the wooden shell. "Madara?"

"Hmm?" the slow response was.

"You okay?"

He sighed, "I don't really know anymore."

"Let me get you out so we can talk." Haruka didn't wait for a response to cut the wood open.

Inside sat a slouched Madara, eyes dark and tired. "Why did you come back?"

"Eh," Haruka stretched slowly. "I had the time. Your ANBU are quite pathetic at the current."

"So you came here to insult my special forces?"

"More or less." Haruka shrugged slightly. "Well, also we have similar. . ." she searched for the right word. ". . .aspirations for the world. I would enjoy the chaos that would likely be brought about by your actions."

"So you came here to insult my special forces and my aspirations?"

"No," Haruka smirked. "I came here to open Pandora's box. Here," The dark woman drew an orb from her clothing. It was violet and violent, definitely one of Jashin's jutsus. "this might help you. You aren't gonna get any younger, but this will keep you from aging."

Madara raised a questioning eyebrow. Haruka was notoriously sneaky, manipulative, and self-interested, a model of what Leaf-nin were _not_ suppose to be.

"Just take it!" Haruka shoved the orb into her ex's face. "Trust me on this one, have I ever let you down?"

"Well-"

"Rhetorical question! Let's not dwell on the past. It took me an arm and a leg to get this for you. Think of it as a _very_ late birthday present."

"Alright! Alright! I was going to accept it anyway. It's just-"

"You're wondering why I came back? Well, I am, too. Don't ask, I have things to do and I must be on my way."

Madara reached for the orb and tucked it in the folds of his clothes. He sighed, "Thank you."

"Don't sweat it! Anyway, I've gotta go. If you need me, you'll probably be able to find me." Haruka began leaving.

Madara called, "Wait! What are you going to do?"

"Well," she pondered. "I have forever after all. I think I'm going to go learn how to properly use senbon. Those little shits hate me." With that, the woman was gone. Madara would see her every now and again. He wouldn't _really_ see her again until the Kyuubi attack she decided to get involved with, and that'd be decades away.

Haruka did many things in the mostly unnarrated time of her life. She was a revolutionary, and she knew it. She changed the world of fashion and music just for fun this one time. She became a Jashinist saint –head of the religion, no she didn't die. She did a lot of nifty stuff.

.:.W.:.

_ A/N: Well, that was a whole lot shorter than I first thought it would be. However, I have some of the next chapter written, and I hope to get it up this week._

_ Thank you, Dust Bunnies Anonymous, for your reviews! They got my ass in gear and made me get this third chapter up. Hmm, I do think that I'm just going to add some more OC's to pair Hidan with because I keep on thinking how awkward it would be to have them together. I don't know, I haven't gotten that far yet._

_ So, please review. They make me write. And if you don't. . . well, let's just say I know a guy. XD_

_ -Uncle W.Z_


	4. four

_Disclaimer: I own two new OC's and all the aforementioned one. None of the Naruto characters are my OC's._

.four.

Haruka climbed up the stairs to the upper part of the Temple of Jashin, in fact a revived temple from Jashin's original religion. The entire temple was very what we would call Greek. Obviously, they wouldn't know what that is, but it looked very Greek.

In the seventy or so years we left Haruka to her business, she assented to the highest position of her religion, a saint. A peculiar name, yes, but she couldn't exactly become a saint in our sense of the word. The position directly below her was of a high priest or priestess. It was gender dependant, you see.

Today, Haruka had a long overdue appointment with her two hand-raised high priestesses. She trained the two women herself just to open another one of Pandora's boxes. You see, Jashinists didn't become one without a bit of chaos being released.

Or blood for that matter.

Haruka approached her two subordinates. The two looked nearly identical with their pale blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and somewhat anemic complexion. However similar they looked, though, their apparent personality was oh so very different.

The much more peppy of the two, Akira she was called, had passion apparent in her big, almost electric blue eyes. It was obvious she adored her work, her life. As well, she held herself nicely but casually in a confident, self-assured way. Her confidence glimmered in her eyes, as well, but deep down under the swirls of blue, you could make out a broken, pleading determination. Hidden under her bright smile she was just another lost bird, abandoned by the flock.

Akira wore her bright robes, generally crafted from bright, saturated colors, with her rosary proudly displayed on her conservatively covered chest. Her more golden blonde hair was usually pulled back into a short, choppy pony-tail, tied up with a ribbon, but some escaped it, framing the delicate features of her face.

The taller, more placid of the two, Noa, was a regal one. She had a swan-like grace to her long-limbed form. Her eyes were pulled up, angular, a muted icy blue. Though she was younger than Akira, Noa held a quiet wisdom in her eyes' pale depths. They had a holier-than-thou (no pun intended) gleam in them. However, a bird was also snared in the cold depths. Hers was a broken little bird, and she wasn't afraid to show it off. Well, she showed it about as much as the rest of her feelings, so not all that much. Noa held herself with strict posture, making her seem uncomfortable in herself.

Noa wore her muted, neutral robes so they could easily be picked up by the wind or a gesture, giving her a nearly spectral look to go along with her paper pale skin and fluid motions. Noa was like most of the younger of her faith, comfortable with exposing her body. She showed a somewhat liberal amount of chest, six, perhaps seven fingers from her collar bone. Other than that, though, she was relatively modest in her dress. Her skirt usually brushed the floor, barley exposing her petite feet. If Akira had short, golden, choppy hair, then Noa had practically the opposite. Noa's hair was blonde, too, but it was a long cascade of silver that winded down to the middle of her back.

All in all, the two were practically opposites. Akira was a bright songbird, a canary would fit, while Noa was a mysterious, lonely bird of prey, a snowy owl perhaps. Haruka could tell by a long, hard look into either's eyes that they had been hurt in their past _but_ that they were the small minority of people who had gotten over themselves. Mostly. There was still resentment in them, -they wouldn't be Jashinists otherwise- so they simply followed they golden rule and hit their bullies right back. However, those who take an eye for an eye are framed for making the whole world blind. All three had to learn this the hard way, even the quite emotionally tuned Haruka.

Both of Haruka's students were sprawled over their own couch, Noa in a more organized fashion, Akira simply sprawled. Both had some blood smeared on their semi-formal robes. There had been a large ritual today led by the two women.

Noa cracked an eye instantly upon Haruka's approach within ten or so yards and gave her superior a genuine smile that probably hadn't graced her lips for a "good" reason for a good while.

"Ahoy, Mother Yuuben!" Akira sat up instantly on the arrival of her superior.

"Hello, ladies," Haruka eyed her girls with a critical grey eye, so much like Father had with her. Give her a break, the three hadn't all been together in over a _year_. It seemed like the high priestesses were babies just last month, -Haruka actually knew them then- and now Akira was twenty-five with her birthday in a month and Noa was already nineteen.

Oh, Jashin-sama, where _did_ the time go?

Noa and Akira stood to embrace Haruka with a gesture similar to _la bise. _

"Ne, Mum, did you bring any wine? It's been about a year, no?" Akira shook an empty cup around that seemed to have had tea of some sort in it.

"Have we got a alcoholic?" Haruka teased. "Well, I haven't. Noa might be of age in the Earth Country, but it isn't quite legal in this country."

"Hn." Noa shifted back into her seat.

Akira mused aloud taking back her seat, "You know, I don't think the law has ever quite stopped us before."

Haruka shrugged. Noa gave a victorious smirk.

Haruka took her lavish seat on the ground. "Now, then, what was the urgent thing that I came here immediately for?"

Akira and Noa exchanged what Haruka would look back on as a nervous glance. Akira spoke, "Well, you see, Mum, we've been having a. . . uh, disagreement of sorts."

A pregnant pause pulled at the air. Haruka finally gave a slow, somewhat sarcastic nod. "Uh-_huh_."

Noa spoke up for the first time, "It's not as puerile as it seems, Mother. The conflict has interfered with our sacred duties an absurd amount of times."

"Ah," Haruka gained a bit more understanding of the conflict. "Now, may I ask what your disagreement is over exactly?"

Akira started, "Well, I'll tell you. First take a look at my lovely little lady, Noa, over there. You see, she is a model Jashinists like me or you, but she seems to have this misinterpretation of _The Scripture's_ principles. She got this warped idea in her head that death is the square while destruction is the rectangle when it is _obviously_ the other way around."

"Um," Noa began, irritation flickering in her eyes. "I believe that _you_, my dear, are the one with the warped idea trapped in your head."

Haruka closed her eyes, releasing an exasperated sigh.

"And by _that_ you mean?" Akira let her eyes fall into slits.

"Clearly death is destruction of life itself."

"Blasphemy!" Akira cried, jumping up. "Destruction is just the death of inanimate objects!"

Noa slowly stood. "You know what, Akira. Get my idea through your thick skull, and your curious thought might not be so lonely."

"Damn it, girl!"

"Damn it yourself."

Akira huffed and returned to her seat while Noa sunk back into hers.

Haruka opened her eyes. "Well, there's your problem: you two are in quite a quarrel there, aren't you?"

Akira jaw dropped in amazement or something along those lines. Noa clutched the bridge of her nose. Akira squeaked in disbelief, "You!– I!–Jashin-sama! I said that from the start!"

"And I heard you. I was just being an active listener," said Haruka evenly.

Akira sat back down, leaving a pause in the conversation. Noa suddenly said, "Out of curiosity, whose interpretation would you more readily support?"

Haruka stroked her invisible beard in thought. "Hmm, I'd have to give my vote to you, Noa. Generally I support death over destruction, but your train of thought is more reasonable."

Akira growled, pouring herself some more bitter tea, "Always gotta play favorites, don't you, Mum?"

Noa began, "Mother, I must admit that we did not request your presence to simply prove that I had the more sensible prospective," Noa paused to send a triumphant smirk to Akira who returned it with a tongue. "but we summoned you to request your aid in our up-and-coming project. I believe you've heard tell of our most recent aspiration."

"Experimenting to unlock the key to immortality?" Haruka took a sip of the tea, cringing some at the bitterness. "Yes, the rumors of it have traveled. What is it you want me to do?"

Noa nodded to Akira, apparently tired of talking. The younger woman leaned back to sip the tea, smiling as she pulled away from the cup, relishing the vapors of the tea cradling her nose. Akira sighed, obviously irritated with constantly having to talk in place of her fellow Jashinist. "Pretty much there are some people we need. They're in jail, and you're kind of the queen of violent breakouts."

All three exchange a knowing smile, remembering how Haruka took them from the clutches of Orochimaru in an. . . interesting. . . fashion.

"Okay, give me the list and I'll be off." Haruka downed the rest of the tea in one gulp. She contorted her face, "Damn, we need to get some sugar. Add that to the list, child."

"Whatever you say, Mum."

.:.W.:.

"Just one more on the list. Well, besides sugar, of course," Haruka muttered, wrapping her robes around her. She had gone for a simple, thin, black frock, not expecting any rapid change in weather. Her navigational senses seemed to have deteriorated to an even sorrier state, and that was _really _saying something.

"Hot damn, it's cold outside! It's just around this turn, right?" Haruka glanced back to the girl, maybe sixteen, who was chained around her neck like a dog on a leash. The girl whimpered some and nodded.

Haruka hummed in content, letting her chakra give off a blue warmth in her palms. "Ah, who needs a map when you can just snag a villager?" A demonic grin grew over her face. "They aren't too hard to sell for pocket money, either."

The girl's eyes grew wide with fear. Haruka laughed heartily. "Oh, I'm just messing around! No, Jashin-sama needs more women like you in heaven."

The girl whimpered even more before Haruka yanked her along the path. According to the local, one of the maximum security prisons was right down this path. And according to the list, this is where the final man would be. No, Akira hadn't written down any women to track down. She says that they're smarter and less likely to end up in jail.

Haruka couldn't help but chuckle at the statement. Akira had quite a bit of pride for her gender.

Several dull minutes of walking later, Haruka stumbled upon the jail. Almost instantaneously, two guards were on top of her. Good thing she got rid of that girl. . .

"What is your business here?" the first guard said.

Haruka lazily looked over. "I've come to retrieve someone."

The second guard eyes widened in surprise. "Ma'am, this is a _maximum security prison_."

"You probably shouldn't be flaunting that fact off. It's just a suggestion, but really now." Haruka's stomach prickled with anticipation, ready for the outburst to come next.

The first guard gave her an incredulous look. "With the utmost respect, I am going to have to ask you to leave."

"And if I refuse the request?"

Both guards' hands instantly felt for kunai. However, Haruka reached them first. With wind to nearly double her already quick actions, the woman caught the guards' wrists. The second guard yelped, "What?"

The first hissed as Haruka maneuvered the two onto the ground, "Thi-this is dishonorable! Why don't you grow a pair and fight me like a _real _shinobi."

Haruka ground the pair into the ground then said with the blandest voice, "Well, there are two problems with that. The first and most obvious is that I'm a lady, and I intend to stay that way. The more prominent problem –for you at least- is that I don't give a flying piece of monkey shit about 'honor' or being a 'real' shinobi. I've probably been one since before your daddy was born. Well, I shouldn't waste my breath on a tirade, but I think talks help with soothing nerves."

The guards squirmed some in frantic confusion as Haruka's palms glowed. Swiftly, she summoned a wind to turn the two into four.

Haruka stood over the dismembered men, admiring her work before the _real_ work began. She sent her gaze over to the thick jail wall. _That place over there seems enough in disrepair,_ she thought.

With target locked, Haruka started on a swift string of seals. Only the more tangible weapons was her aim lacking with. Wind was on an entirely different level of accuracy. It was big. The target was set. Nothing could escape it.

Her palms began to glow with chakra. In an instant, wind poured from her, ready to devastate the jail wall. It hovered next to the wall in a perfect sphere, playing with the strewn leaves, ready to destroy with Haruka's permission.

The woman closed her eyes, conjuring her creation in her mind's eye. _A dragon will do,_ Haruka decided. _I can't quite control lightning with the wind, so I believe fire should suffice, though it will take more chakra._

Haruka shot her grey eyes open, and within the same instant, a dragon stood in place of the sphere. The technique is complicated to explain. Anyone with the wind affinity and quite precise chakra control could perform it, but it was a secret technique. Basically, wind was maneuvered just so to create an image in the wind simply for show, really. The attacks were devastating, but it had drawbacks. First of all, it would reduce anything in its radius to ruble, so there was little control over that. More importantly, though, it took an elephant-load of chakra to perform.

Well, it was a good jutsu except for those two relatively important drawbacks and that it took eons to master.

Enough rambling.

Haruka made the dragon twitch to life, made it dance just for fun. It would all be over in a second.

And it was.

The wall was gone before you could say "let's blow this popsicle stand." In its place was a bunch of baffled guards and inmates. Half of them were smart enough to look away. Haruka wasn't in a mood to play with her food per say. The dragon twitched again, seeming to examine the people before it, before a plume of fire burst out of its mouth, rendering the frozen people before it burnt to ashes.

Haruka instantly released her reign on the dragon. It sizzled away to cloak the world in dark again.

She clutched at her rosary, walking into the remains. Apparently this man was in the basement.

Another dull walk later, Haruka found herself in front of the single cell in the basement.

She brought a thumb to her lip, ready to blow down the door. A sneering voice stopped her first. "Eh, I wouldn't open that up if I was you."

"Oh?" Haruka turned to regard the man behind her that gave off the vibe of a wife-beater. "And why would that be?"

"Kid's nothing but trouble. He a real freak, even for a serial killer."

"Uh-huh."

"Don't believe me, do ya?"

Haruka turned her hollow gaze back to the cell. "I doubt he could quite compare to some I've met."

"I doubt that. He got this weird religion. He kill a whole mess of inmates here for his god er somethin'. He put in solitary confinement 'cause of it."

Haruka sniffed. "He sounds like the one I'm looking for."

The man gave her an odd look. "Why d'ladies go looking for them sort of folk."

Haruka growled, again bringing her thumb to her lip. "Look, if you're going to pester me, at least conjugate your verbs correctly."

"Conju?- Verbs?" The man scratched his head.

Haruka rolled her eyes and let her wind do the dirty work. The dumb man and the damn door was down before her temper got too out of hand.

As soon as the door fell on the floor, a pale man burst from the cell, nearly tackling Haruka. However, he was quite slow, and all Haruka had to do was catch him in mid-bound.

The man struggled, sending them both flying across the basement with his rather impressive strength. He spat, "What the fuck, bitch? I was trying to sleep!"

She sighed. "You Hidan?"

"Don't ignore me! Do you want to die?" The man clenched his fists, magenta eyes gleaming in anger.

"Trust me," Haruka gave a bitter grin. "I would if I could. But, really. Are. You. Hidan?"

"If I'm not?" he growled.

Haruka brought a finger across her throat.

"You know what. Prepare to face the wrath of Jashin-sama!"

"Fine, then, let's fight this out." She rolled her eyes. Either this man was dumb or blind because Haruka was sure she had her rosary on.

The man, more than likely Hidan, lunged at her. Haruka only had to sidestep him to make him miss, but Hidan was more agile than he appeared. He turned on his heel and lunged again at Haruka.

"Tenacious little bugger, aren't you?" Haruka just about had it for today. The cold and the wife-beater had been enough. And on top of it, this Hidan fellow was dimmer or less faithful than the rest she had retrieved. The rest went with her as soon as they saw the rosary. Haruka didn't have much chakra left after she conjured the dragon, either.

She snapped, never one for patience. Perhaps a good first impression would have helped her in the long run, but she had Hidan pinned down before he could blink.

She hissed, "Move an inch and you'll lose a limb. My wind's got you down."

Hidan struggled nonetheless. Something to the extent of paper cuts formed along his arms due to the case of wind around him. He hissed in pain.

"Boy, do you truly love Jashin-sama?"

Hidan looked at her, taken aback. "What sort of question is that? You're fucking kidding, right? I mean, _of course_ I do!"

"Then get your ass up and follow me." Haruka felt the cold of the rosary against her skin. _Oh, it was just in my shirt._

She pulled it out to show it off.

"Wha?- Bitch, why the hell would you attack me if you knew I was a Jashinist, too?"

"Well, you actually attacked me, so. . ."

Hidan glared, and Haruka let him get up.

.:.W.:.

Noa examined the drugged test subjects with an approving eye. She lifted Hidan's chin with a smirk. "Well, Jashin-sama knows how to choose his followers."

"In some cases, yes." Akira entered with an assortment of medical supplies.

Noa glared.

Haruka raised an eyebrow, always entertained by their interactions. Akira smiled. "'Kay, Mum, you might want to go. I can't have _too_ much chakra messing with the process."

"Alright. Well, I'll be off, then." Haruka stood up. "Send for me when you've finished."

Akira said, "Leaving so soon?"

"I'm afraid so. I've heard that the Kyuubi kid has become a genin. I'd like to check out how he came along."

Noa nodded he goodbye. Akira sighed. "You have too many hobbies, Mum."

Haruka smirked. "You'll learn when you're older."

.:.W.:.

_A/N: Well, I don't quite know what I think about the ending, but I revised it _many_ times, and it just didn't go too smoothly. Um, 'sides for that, I have several things I'd like to ramble about, so hold on._

_First of all, I'd like to apologize for the tardy update. It wasn't _too _long, I know, but it still bothers me. You can blame the last two sections and my tiny, light handwriting. I had the first half or so written down, and it took forever to copy. So sorry. I'll do my best to update again this weekend._

_Next, I want to make a couple of notes on Noa and Akira. I tried to make them like the sort of fire and ice or in and yang twins you see relatively often I tried to make them have a sisterly sort of relationship. I personally have no siblings, so if you can give me any pointers on that it would be much appreciated._

_Also, I'd like to say some stuff about Haruka's powers. I'm doing my best to be like "She's old and stuff so she can have the most fantabulous abilities in the world," and give her godly abilities, but she's still about one hundred if my calculations are correct, so she has a lot of fighting experience, thus will be a quite formidable kunoichi. I'm trying to find that happy median of rather powerful but not overpowered. I gave her attacks drawbacks to try to make them 3D. I hope I'm doing okay with this._

_Finally, I want to know whether you want to read about Haruka spying on Naruto or if you'd rather her to go ahead and interact with the Akatsuki, get back with Madara, and begin Hidan's romance. Either one is good with me. Her spying would probably only take one chapter or maybe half a chapter._

_Okay, enough with the ridiculously long A/N. Thank you Dust Bunnies Anonymous and Blossoming-Lotus-Flower soooooooo much for reviewing and a big thanks to anyone who fav'd or put his story on alert! I love y'all! _

_Please review, and I'll keep my dogs from licking you to death. _

_-Uncle W.Z_


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